


Black Christmas

by GwendolynGrace



Series: Blackstory [10]
Category: Alternity - A Harry Potter Alternate Universe, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter Alternity - Fandom
Genre: Blackstory, Canon Backstory, Canon Compliant, Gen, HP Alternity, RPG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGrace/pseuds/GwendolynGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius does not look forward to his first Christmas since his Sorting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 2008-2010. This is one of a series of "Blackstory" - backstory fiction about the Blacks - that I wrote while playing in the HP Alternity RPG. Because they predate the point where the game diverged, they are also canon-compliant. The actions of the characters depicted here were approved by the players at the time the story was written (and have been shared with subsequent players as appropriate).

1970

In some ways, it was just bad luck that Sirius’ birthday fell three days before they went home for holidays. He hadn’t been certain, anyway, whether he ought to expect any sort of presents, given that they would have to be delivered to the Gryffindor table in full sight of everyone in school. Mother surely didn’t wish to call any attention to his House by sending Charon or even Arius with tidings, birthday or otherwise. 

He had studiously avoided telling James or Peter the date, just so neither of them would take pity when it came - and went - without anyone remarking on its significance.

But particularly as it was so close to the day they left, Sirius prepared himself for the inevitable disappointment. He was surprised, however, when the flight of owls came sailing in over the breakfast tables and Peter said, ‘That’s the biggest owl I’ve ever--’ and Sirius perceived a shadow over his sausages and toast.

Charon. His father’s enormous Great Grey had dropped a thin envelope in front of his place. Sirius looked up to see the huge owl winging off through the Great Hall, on its way to the owlery for a rest before returning south.

James regarded the envelope as if it might explode. ‘It’s not red,’ he pointed out helpfully. 

‘Nope,’ Sirius agreed through a bite of eggs. He picked up the envelope, assessed the writing quickly, and stuffed it into his pocket.

‘You’re not gong to open it?’ Peter asked.

‘Nope,’ Sirius said again, this time with more confidence. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘How do you know if you don’t even look at it?’ Peter demanded. His mother wrote nearly every week, though, so it wasn’t surprising he didn’t associate the owl with bad news.

‘I’ve got - what’s the word? - x-ray vision,’ Sirius quipped. ‘It’s just a bill.’

‘You’re eleven. Who gets bills when they’re eleven?’ a third-year student jeered from next to their seats.

‘Eleven-year-olds with loads of pocket money, of course,’ Sirius shot back. ‘Mind your own.’

‘Peter, he wants to open it in private, leave off,’ Remus said quietly.

Sirius looked up. Whenever Remus contributed to the conversation, it made Sirius uncomfortable. They’d been sharing living quarters for three months, nearly four, yet it always made Sirius feel vaguely guilty when he talked to Remus willingly. He could hear his mother’s disapproval, see her scowl at his blatant betrayal at associating with a halfblood - and a very odd one, at that. Lupin’s sensitivity and maturity, especially for someone their age, was disconcerting. He made Sirius want to like him. He _did_ like him, actually. He just wasn’t sure how he could justify it to his parents.

‘Think your parents will let you come visit?’ James asked them all. ‘I bet I could convince mine to have all three of you, long as it’s not right at Christmas.’

‘Definitely,’ Peter said.

‘Possibly,’ Remus commented, chewing his bacon.

‘Doubt it,’ Sirius answered with a shrug.

‘You have to come,’ James protested. ‘C’mon, it’ll be--’

‘It’s only a couple of weeks,’ Sirius interrupted. ‘Merlin.’

James instantly looked contrite. ‘They _can’t_ still be cross, mate.’

‘They can. But … we’ll see. If I catch Father in the right mood.’ 

He hastily finished his breakfast and gathered up his books for lessons. Pretty soon the end-of-term exams drove all thoughts of his birthday and the letter from his mind.

They were rising from their final Transfiguration lesson (‘Homework over the _holidays_ , Professor McGonagall?!’ James had protested) when Sirius drove his hands into his pockets and his fingers closed on the slender envelope.

He fell back from the crowd of Gryffindors rushing up to their Common Room to finish essays and revise for the next day’s exams. With a quick glance ahead to make sure James and Peter hadn’t noticed him lagging, he turned the opposite way to head up the stairs to one of the towers.

When he got to the point where the circular stair gave him a good vantage to spy approaching observers, he pulled the letter out of his pocket. It was on the fine, starched linen Mother used for her stationery, but the address was written in a smaller, more careful hand than Mother’s refined script. Instead of a proper seal in wax, the author had drawn the Black crest over the point. Sirius broke it open and withdrew the folded page.

> _‘Sirius,_
> 
> _Mother says she didn’t think it was any use to bother sending you your presents as you’re coming home in three days. But I asked if I could write to you because I didn’t think it would look well for you to not get anything at all on your birthday._
> 
> _We’re going to Blackmoor Park for supper so they can make a big deal out of Bellatrix turning 18 but I don’t mind because they’ll probably leave me alone mostly. It’s not the same when it’s just me, though. Mother said we’ll probably do something more once you and Cissy and Andi are home but for now it’s just supper. But Blackmoor Park is all right and Aunt Druella’s elves always make good food._
> 
> _Father took me to Diagon Alley so I could get you a birthday present. He even handed me the gold so I could pay! And he let me help pick out your Christmas present too. Well, one of them. (Not one of the dull ones, though.)_
> 
> _It snowed last night! Of course, Mother says you’ve had snow already for weeks but we haven’t really. When your home maybe we could make snow elves in the back garden. I’m not to have lessons while you’re home, either, huzzah. Mr Thatcher still comes four times a week but Mother discharged Miss Wilkinson because she’s too len-ient. That means she lets me get away with things. Mother said you got away with things at school with your mates. How many mates have you made? I don’t think she’s happy that there Griffyndors, I hope you made some friends in Slytherin for me._
> 
> _Mother says if I’m going to send this with Charon I have to finish it. So I’ll see you Saterday and Happy Birthday!_
> 
> _Yours very sincerely,_
> 
> _Regulus Arcturus Black’_

Each paragraph was painstakingly written. Sirius could see several blots where Reg had hesitated over the spelling of a word. Sirius re-read it, smiling.

‘Good news?’ a sneering voice asked from the stairwell below.

Sirius jumped a mile, even though the voice had spoken barely above a whisper. He crumpled Reg’s letter in his rush to hide it. The envelope fluttered down the stairs, however, and before Sirius could rescue it, Snape had snatched it away.

‘Stone me,’ Snape breathed. ‘What, do you have servants that draw your emblem on your letters for you? How haughty can you get, Black?’

‘Shove off,’ Sirius said.

‘What’s wrong? Aren’t you getting a country house or summat for your birthday?’

Sirius stood up, hand on his wand hilt. 

Snape continued. ‘Heard all about it from your cousin, didn’t I? Soon’s she saw that owl and all, she said she were surprised. She expected you’d get naught.’ Snape backed away a step, wand out, still examining Reg’s drawing on the envelope. ‘Then again, that’s probably the smallest present I’ve ever seen and all. What’s it say? “Dear Disappointment, we’ve decided to ignore your birthday on account of how you’re--”’

‘Shut it now, Snape,’ Sirius warned. He came down several steps.

‘Or you’ll what? No magic in the corridors. You wouldn’t want the next one of these to be a Howler and all, would you?’ He grinned wickedly. ‘But then, that’s the only time they pay you any mind, isn’t it?’

Sirius aimed precisely and Snape yelped as the hex stung his hand. The envelope fell to the floor.

‘No prefects around,’ Sirius said. ‘You tell Cissy to keep her mouth shut if she wants--No. I’ll tell her myself.’ He bent to pick up his bookbag just as Snape’s spell bounced off the flagstone wall.

Forgetting the bag, Sirius brought his wand up to meet Snape’s. The two stood locked in stance. 

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ Sirius heard a third voice intone below Snape’s position on the stair.

Snape and Sirius both recognised the voice. Lupin had doubled back and found Sirius’ refuge - and none too soon from Sirius’ point of view. Two to one. Sirius gestured to the stairs beyond Remus. ‘Run along, Snivellus, before you get sent home to mummy in your trunk.’

Snape backed down a step, wand still trained on his opponent, until he came shoulder to shoulder with Remus. Then he pushed past the slimmer boy and away. His steps retreated, sounding frustrated but defeated as they receded.

‘I figured you didn’t need a detention two days before we go home,’ Remus said, still in that oddly sage way of his.

‘No, guess not.’

Remus bent down and picked up the white linen rectangle. ‘Here,’ he said, holding it out. ‘They don’t write you often. It stands to reason we wouldn’t be the only ones who noticed.’

‘They didn’t write this time, either,’ Sirius muttered. ‘It’s from Reg.’

‘Your...brother?’ It was more like Remus was confirming the relationship than surprise.

Sirius nodded. 

‘Is something wrong?’ he asked in the same tone of guessing.

‘Nothing much,’ Sirius sighed. He sat down on the steps. ‘I’m not sure I want to go home,’ he admitted.

Remus thought about that before answering. ‘You’d disappoint your brother, though.’

‘Only because he’s bored without me,’ Sirius said with bravado. ‘I’m the centre of his universe, after all.’

‘Right,’ Remus snorted.

Sirius laughed. ‘It’s not as great as it sounds.’ His grin faded. ‘Why aren’t you sure you can visit James? Your mother?’

‘Er, yeah,’ Remus said, looking away in embarrassment. ‘It depends on how she’s feeling.’

‘I should have asked before: Is it ser--I mean, is it life-threatening? Do you mind me asking?’

‘No, it’s a--chronic problem,’ Remus said. ‘But sometimes it’s worse than others.’

‘Can’t St Mungo’s help?’

‘No,’ Remus said very softly. ‘There’s nothing anyone can do.’

‘Oh. That’s rough.’

‘Yes. About as rough as having parents who blame you for something that’s not your fault.’

Though Remus had said it as kindly as he ever said anything, Sirius looked up sharply. ‘Of course it’s my fault,’ he insisted. ‘What else can it be?’

‘The hat’s decision,’ Remus said after a moment. He lifted his hand, paused, and then tentatively touched Sirius’ arm. ‘You haven’t worried about it for months. You belong in Gryffindor. It’s only because you’re going home that you’re brooding about it again. Let it go. Then maybe your parents will, too.’

‘You don’t know them,’ Sirius said glumly. 

Remus sighed. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

Sirius opened his mouth to explain, but couldn’t force the words to come. Instead, he pulled out the crumpled sheet of stationery and handed it to the other boy.

Remus read quickly, his eyes efficiently travelling down the page. He handed it back. ‘Oh.’

Sirius took a deep breath and forced it out. ‘Yeah.’

‘Well, they have presents for you,’ he said lamely.

‘Yes. I just don’t get them until I’m home. Can’t be seen to lavish attention on a lowly Gryffindor.’

Remus put his arm around Sirius loosely. ‘I take it back. They’ll never forgive you.’

Sirius grunted. 

‘But they’ll _really_ never forgive you if you get expelled before the end of your first term.’

They both chuckled.

‘How come you never said today was your birthday?’ Remus asked after a moment.

‘Obvious, innit? I knew I wasn’t going to get anything.’

Remus rested his chin on his hand. ‘Well. Next year, we’ll remember it.’

Somehow, Sirius knew he meant it, too.


End file.
